


Talisman (October 5)

by Atzen_Mierge



Series: Inktober: Novel Edition (2018) [5]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: (i'm sorry), Bendy is life, Bendy is love, Gen, Origin of his mask, indoctrination, poor sammy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 22:21:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16206848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atzen_Mierge/pseuds/Atzen_Mierge
Summary: It was dark and noisy. Disorienting. It was maddening. Sammy didn't know where he was, what was happening, why he couldn't go home. Other's voices concocted into one, his own thoughts swirling into the mix. If Sammy concentrated hard enough he would probably be able to make out conversations that were had many years ago. But he couldn't concentrate. His mind was a swirling swamp.





	Talisman (October 5)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this within two hours or so. I'm dead tired. Still got more Inktober stuff to do though!
> 
> Ha ha... yea...

It was dark and noisy. Disorienting. It was maddening. Sammy didn't know where he was, what was happening, why he couldn't go home. Other's voices concocted into one, his own thoughts swirling into the mix. If Sammy concentrated hard enough he would probably be able to make out conversations that were had many years ago. But he couldn't concentrate. His mind was a swirling swamp.

Or is it raging rapids? Both seemed applicable in his case.

His mind lay afloat with the supposed others that suffered with him.

The banjo plucks-.... And then he installed a pump that... Alright let's try that again, now-

 

**_Graaooowwnnnnn_ **

 

There was that noise again. It was like a file that stuck a little too far from the stack. Sammy would hear it from time to time and would briefly acknowledge it before slipping back into the monotonous mourning.

 

**_Muurrr muraaa_ **

 

The thing sounded out again. All of a sudden the darkness started to get brighter and his thoughts were beginning to become his own.

 

**_CKSssaa armrry_ **

 

All of a sudden light flooded in a spotlight around him and the voices became whispers. The light was coming from a tunnel. Sammy found that he could not turn his head. Fear and confusion formed in his gut, if he had one that is.

 

**_Sssaaaammyyyy_ **

 

The noise, or rather, voice was clear this time. It or whoever it was, was calling out to him.

 

_**Ssaaammyyy** _

 

It said again. Sammy felt himself being pulled quickly through the tunnel, the light becoming brighter and brighter to the point that it hurt.

 

_**Saahhhh...** _

 

Sammy woke with a wet gasp. He flew out from the wall and knocked down a cutout that was lying up against it. The landing borderline knocked the wind out of him as he and the cutout slid back from the force. Sammy focused on gasping for air but he still felt empty; he wasn't feeling any better. It was like pumping air into a sack: useless.

In his panic Sammy felt for his chest and throat and was instead met with the sensation of slipping wet slime. He looked down.

He was completely made out of ink. He had an ink body.

“Uhh wha-what?” he let out meekly, searching himself with a rapidness that was tenfold the panic he was previously feeling.

A loud metal clunk made him pause and then whip over into a planking position. He was ready for something or someone to be there but was instead met with a slowly turning soup can. His held-in breath was let out. He gulped down on his anxiety and thought to stop breathing entirely and take in the situation.

In his thinking he had found that the use to breathing was pointless but habitual and that nothing was there with him. Though he couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched. He stayed alert from this feeling along but did let his guard down just a bit.

Sammy lumbered to stand up and looked down at himself. He wasn't wearing clothes but that wasn't much of an issue as ink coated his body. He grasped at the ink of his leg, carving his fingers into it before pulling his hand back. The ink heavily bowed down before dripping off into a splatter on the floor like hot, liquid-like taffy. The ink of his leg reformed back to its previous state.

His mind was ripped from his exploration by a rattling noise. He looked to the side and saw that the broken head to the Bendy cutout was rattling. It stopped when he saw it. The former composer stared at the wooden head piece. It didn't seem to do much else so Sammy tentatively picked it up.

As soon as he'd touched it he could feel a sense of comfort blanket over him. It was a calming and warming feeling that Sammy very much indulged in.

_Sammy_ , it said. But not really. He could hear the words enter his head.

It was Bendy. Bendy was the one calling him, calling after him. Was he the reason why he was finally freed from that dreadful pool of wallow?

He felt a sense of positive confirmation.

Yes. Yes, yes of course he had. Bendy had saved him. He had saved him because he needed him. For something. And maybe if he did that something he'll have his skin back? He had already been given a body and freedom from the dark place. It would only be fair if he returned the gracious favor.

Sammy lifted the mask to his face and made it stick there. His vision wasn't impaired in the slightest and the soft sense of Bendy's presence flowed through his being. He had a purpose and he was going to fulfill it. No matter what.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like this? Did you not like this? Tell my why!
> 
> Also if you'd like to see something be written, just tell me what you want and I might write it! (Crediting is a default.)
> 
> If you want more Bendy I have more Bendy so go check that out!


End file.
